


Sorry

by steggyisimmortal



Series: Shield and Gun [21]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fix It Fic, Fred POV, Gen, season 2 might have sucked but it gave me a vessel of jealousy for Fred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steggyisimmortal/pseuds/steggyisimmortal
Summary: Inspired by the lines:"Sorry (I ain't sorry). I left a note in the hallway.  By the time you read it I’ll be far away."





	Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the lines: _"Sorry (I ain't sorry). I left a note in the hallway. By the time you read it I’ll be far away."_

New York is a filthy place.

 

I don’t know why people always romanticize it.  There’s trash on the street and street urchins everywhere.  And it smells like a sewer.  I suppose London might not be any better given the condition it’s been left in due to the war but I expected better of this city.  Though I guess I shouldn’t with all the types that call this city home.  You won’t see this lot in the good parts of London.  I can’t wait to return to the social standards I’m used to where the classes know exactly which part of town is theirs.

 

I don’t know why my father insisted I join him for this meeting.  There’s no need for me to be here but he assures me it will boost my standing with the club.  I decide to play tourist until then.  I don’t really have an option.  The room is frightfully plain and dull.  I’d rather take my chances on the streets.  

 

I must say the buildings are impressive at least.  The architecture is beautiful.  I suppose that’s one thing Americans have going for them.  Their food is… decent.  It’s not the standard I’m used to but it’s not grotesque. 

 

Good lord, what on earth is that man selling out of that cart? 

 

That’s simply atrocious.  Haven’t these beastly Americans heard of utensils?

 

Animals. the lot of them.

 

We’re supposed to meet at eight at someplace called the Rainbow Room.  I’m early due to my leisure pursuits so I decide to have a drink at the bar to pass time until everyone else arrives. 

 

Everyone is very nicely dressed here.  I’m glad I stopped by my room to change first.  Now I look a step above everyone.  I almost brought my uniform but my father assured me it wasn’t necessary.  I wish I had anyway.  I look rather dashing in it.

 

There are some very beautiful women in here tonight.  I’m glad I didn’t bring my new fiancée.  She would have been a nice addition, help me seal the deal with father’s friends so to speak, but her lack of presence frees me to pursue other interests.  I may as well have some fun while I’m here after all. 

 

I signal the bartender to get his attention but just as I think he’s making his way towards me, a giant of a man pulls up next to me.  The bartender makes a beeline for him, smile wide on his face, and takes his drink order.  I scoff at the snub but notice the man is wearing his military uniform, a major’s leaf on his shoulder and an assortment of medals on his lapel.  Maybe I should have worn mine.  Then I’d receive the kind of service he’s getting.  Though I hardly have as many medals as this man, as much as it pains me to admit.

 

He’s painstakingly polite.  I think he’s the first American I’ve heard actually show manners.  I didn’t know they possessed such a thing.  A second bartender makes his way over to me but not before shaking the man’s hand with a smile of his own.  He takes my order and has my drink to me post haste.  Not terrible service after all I suppose but nowhere near what it should be.  I’m regretting not wearing my uniform more by the second.

 

Sipping my whiskey, I settle my eyes on the mirror behind the bar.  I take in the room, scanning for the gentlemen I’m supposed to meet and taking in the type of people that have chosen this establishment for their evening’s entertainment. 

 

I’m in the process of inspecting a fine blond through the mirror when a different woman catches my eye.

 

A familiar woman.

 

I don’t know anyone in America.  I barely socialized with American troops during the war.  I preferred to stay far away from their crass nature. 

 

But I know that woman.

 

Her hair is longer but that’s Peggy Carter.

 

My god, I haven’t seen her in seven years.  She hasn’t changed a bit.  She still looks as beautiful as ever.  More so actually.  She’s absolutely glowing right now.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so radiant.

 

She’s sitting with an older couple and a few gentlemen at a mostly empty table.  There are at least fourteen – no, sixteen? – chairs around the table. 

 

I should go over and say hello.  I never expected to see her again.  Certainly not after she left the way she did.  Her mother wouldn’t even tell me where she went.  She handed me a letter with my name on the front in Peggy’s writing and wiped her hands of me.  I always suspected Peggy joined the military after all but I could never find evidence of this.  I thought for sure I’d find a paper trail given my office position but there was nothing.  It was as though she simply disappeared.

 

I turn but I don’t move any further.  I have no idea what to say to her.  I never thought I’d see her again because I didn’t think she wanted to be found.  That’s the gist I received from her letter.  It wasn’t scathing but neither was it flattering. 

 

I wonder why she’s in New York.  I suppose this could be where she’s made her home but I can’t fathom why.  It doesn’t seem at all like somewhere she would prefer.  She always preferred the finer things in life.  I doubt she gets them here.  How can she in a city where they sell food on the streets?

 

At any rate, surely I can walk over and say hello.  It shouldn’t be this hard!  I down my drink and set the glass on the counter.  I can do this.  We’re old friends after all.  We were engaged for heaven’s sake.

 

I take one step and pause.

 

The giant man from the bar is handing her one of the drinks he ordered.  I stare perplexed as he sits down next to her, his arm going around the back of her chair.  They look comfortable together.  She’s smiling at him.  I’ve never seen her smile that like.  It lights up the entire room.  Her hand goes to rest on his thigh in a very familiar manner, much more familiar than a first date or colleague. 

 

My resolve demolished, I order another drink and watch. 

 

It’s now I notice the tables are removed slightly from the others.  They’re further back, tucked in the front arch of the room.  In short order more people arrive to their table, old friends from the look of it.  I’m surprised to see her mother and brother arrive with people I don’t recognize.  One of them looks surprisingly like Howard Stark. 

 

The giant man stands to say hello to Allison and Michael.  In typical Allison fashion she pulls him into a hug.  He doesn’t look hesitant in the least.  She punctuates her embrace with a kiss on the cheek before moving to hug Peggy.

 

It’s then I notice the flash of a diamond ring on her finger.

 

Her ring finger.

 

A man close to me gasps suddenly, breaking me from my revelation.  I turn to look at him but his gaze is focused near the front of the room where I was just staring.

 

“Clara, that’s Captain America.”

 

“Oh Don, please.  This again?”

 

“No, I’m serious!  I saw him close up in Austria.  I’m tellin’ ya – that’s him.”

 

I turn back to the table and he’s right.  I thought he looked slightly familiar but after a while the uniforms blur out the faces.

 

Sitting next to my ex fiancée is Captain America.

 

My lips part in shock.  Peggy and Captain America.  My Peg is married to Captain America. 

 

I knew he’d gone down in the ice but I didn’t realize he’d been found.  How on earth does Peggy know him?   I suppose that really is Howard Stark then.  And the Captain’s Howling Commandos.  I saw them on a news reel we were made to watch once. 

 

How on earth had she crossed paths with him?  I can’t believe she’s attracted to his type.  He seems far too broad and bulky to be appealing to her.  I suppose he’s polite enough if his actions at the bar are anything to speak of but I’ve heard he has trouble following orders on the battlefront.  He doesn’t seem to answer to anyone in particular.  Just goes about doing as he pleases, risking not only his life but the lives of his company. 

 

That sort of man is not good enough for Peggy.  She needs someone stable and obedient.  Someone more like me.  Surely a life as exciting as his is too much for her.  It breaks my heart to think of her waiting to hear news of his wanderings.

 

I hear my name and turn to see my father standing there with his friends.  I smile back in return and head over to join them.

 

But all throughout supper I can’t seem to keep my focus away from Peggy’s table. 

 

Did I make a mistake giving her up so easy?  I should have searched for her harder.  I’m fairly positive she didn’t leave because she found out about that woman from the pub but I’ve never understood why she left.  I thought we were happy.  I certainly was.  She would have made an excellent wife.  Our home and children would have been well looked after by her.  I would go to work every day and come home to a loving wife with supper waiting and adoring children reading in the parlor.  Our life together would have been terrific.

 

It’s her loss.  I doubt he can give her what I could have.  We never would have wanted for anything.  She never would have had to worry her pretty little head about anything. 

 

I wish she’d told me why she left instead of leaving a note.  We could have worked it out.  Now she’ll inevitably be left to a relationship born of the war only to fizzle out after a year.  I’ve seen it before.  It’s not a pretty sight.  The woman’s left devastated in an unfamiliar country while the man moves on because someone better catches his eye.  I hate the thought of that happening to Peggy.   

 

I feel sorry for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Technically no one other than the agent that recruited her would know anything about her joining the SOE so to make this more correct, Fred just believes she joined up like so many others were at that time.


End file.
